


The Best Teacher

by orphan_account



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Blatant Gender-Related Angst, Bottom Harry, Canon Compliant, F/M, Humiliation, Light Angst, M/M, Mutual Masturbation, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Threesome - F/M/M, Vaginal Fingering, Verbal Humiliation, Voyeurism, spitting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-06
Updated: 2019-12-06
Packaged: 2021-02-26 02:28:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,842
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21696181
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: “Who do you want?” Adam asks her as Harry stands awkwardly with his bottom lip clasped between his thumb and index finger, pulling at the skin.“You,” she replies, sliding her bare foot across the bed sheets towards Adam’s thigh. “You can show him what to do. Then he can finish me off.”Or Harry wants to learn and Adam wants to teach him.
Relationships: Adam Prendergast/Harry Styles, Emi Ozmen-Prendergast/Adam Prendergast/Harry Styles
Kudos: 38





	The Best Teacher

“Do you want me to go first?” Adam asks calmly, unbuttoning his shirt and toeing off his shoes. He pushes them to one side and begins unbuckling his belt, the muted sound of metal against leather predictably going straight to Harry’s dick. Usually the sight of Adam’s hands undressing himself would have Harry panting and open for it, but Harry’s fully dressed, his erection nothing more than a deep throbbing in his boxers.

Emi is laid out across the bed in front of them, resting on her elbows. The pale skin of her chest’s flushed but she’s otherwise still fully composed, her hair pulled back from her face neatly in a tight ponytail, her skin freshly showered and her cotton shorts and vest untouched. Meanwhile Harry’s breathing is already shallow, his limbs heavy and his skin hot. His clothes feel too tight and too loose all at once, gripping his body, uncomfortable and unwelcome. 

Adam continues, shrugging out of his shirt and scratching absently at the dark covering of hair across his chest. “The first one’s always the hardest but after that she’s easy. You should be able to give her a few.”  _ A few.  _ Harry’s body hums.

Emi’s now similarly affected, and lifts her hand to her forehead and grips it tightly, her eyes scrunching and her back arching up slightly from the bed at Adam’s words. Her knees fall open and Harry can see the soft dusting of faint hair disappearing into the leg of her pajama shorts. It’s the same blonde downy hair that covers her forearms and Harry knows just from hugging her how it will feel against his skin. 

“Who do you want?” Adam asks her as Harry stands awkwardly with his bottom lip clasped between his thumb and index finger, pulling at the skin. 

“You,” she replies, sliding her bare foot across the bed sheets towards Adam’s thigh. “You can show him what to do. Then he can finish me off.” 

Harry releases his bottom lip from the clutch of his fingers, sucking it between his teeth and biting it white. He leans back against the dark chest of drawers, relishing the sharp ache of wood against his skin. But the angle’s not ideal, and most of his view’s blocked by Adam’s back as he draws his belt through its loops and throws it to the floor, climbing onto the bed and pushing Emi’s legs apart. 

“I can’t see,” Harry panics, his voice thick. 

Adam’s head snaps around to Harry, the muscles in his back thick and firm. “Just wait. Impatient.” 

Adam kisses Emi on the forehead as he maneuvers past her to sit at the head of the bed. Once he’s comfortable, with his black jeans undone and the thick line of his erection fitted into the gap between the denim, he reaches down and grabs Emi beneath her arms and gently hoists her up until her back is to his front. 

“Shorts,” he kisses into the side of her neck. She quickly wriggles out of them, rubbing the smooth skin of her legs together and stretching her back, sinuous and serpentine as she works out the tension before letting herself fall against Adam’s chest. 

Adam stretches out his still-clothed legs, leaving them spread open, and firmly grabs Emi’s thighs from between his own before stretching them wide and pinning them apart with his knees. Her eyes fall closed and Harry watches her nipples draw up beneath the lilac cotton of her vest. 

“Can you see now?” Adam asks pointedly, his eyes flitting between the lure of Emi’s now-exposed pussy and Harry’s face. 

Harry’s vision is swimming, his hands fizzy with pins and needles and the need to reach out and touch. “Yes.” 

“You okay?” Adam asks Emi quietly. When she turns to smile up at him before nodding, her eyes heavy and her jaw set, he reaches down to trail his fingers up the fine hair between her legs, pausing before he reaches her cunt. “So do you want to find out where you’re going wrong?” he asks Harry. 

“Erm-” Harry begins. And of _course_ he wants to make Emi feel good, or anyone else whose pussy he’s inches away from, but more than that he wants to _watch_. To see how Emi’s body - her _pussy_ \- looks _right_ _there_ when she comes. To understand what’s happening. To imagine what it feels like. 

He knows that Adam knows the pretence is bullshit. Adam’s perceptive in a way Harry hasn’t always given him credit for. He’s perceptive when Harry’s around Emi and the kids. When they’re fucking and Harry’s mumbling into the pillow. When he’s watching Harry and Sarah share a dildo, and Harry’s eyes fill with more than arousal. When Harry asks longingly about the difference between fucking someone’s pussy and fucking someone’s arse, his hand cupping the bulge between his legs. 

“Because there’s obviously something  _ somewhere _ that’s not working out,” Adam pushes confidently, fixing Harry with a firm look, the very tips of his fingers closing in on where Emi needs him. 

“I mean, I think I’m decent?” Harry hedges, blinking frantically. 

“Is that what they tell you?” Adam smirks, dipping one finger deeply and quickly right into Emi’s centre before rubbing the wetness into the bunched skin there. 

Harry fights to suppress a shudder as Emi opens up and takes the thick intrusion easily. “I mean, they don’t complain.” His voice is weak. 

Adam presses his finger back inside languidly, knees pressing outwards to stretch Emi’s legs as wide as they’ll go. “But do they come?” 

Emi’s face contorts and she exhales harshly.

“I can make  _ you _ come,” Harry defends. “I can make Xander come before he’s even woken up.” He can feel himself blushing, the prickle of embarrassment and heat sharp down his spine. A small ache blossoms in his chest, a reminder of what he can do, and what he can’t. 

Adam doesn’t rise to the bait, pushing on as agreed. “But could you make Emi come?” With that he draws his hand away from her wet heat before flattening out his fingers and slapping them against her pussy four times gently, rubbing firm broad circles into her as he licks wet kisses across her shoulder. Her hips are grinding down into the bed, snapping back before pushing up greedily into the warm friction of Adam’s hand. 

“I could try,” Harry says weakly. And he  _ would  _ try. He’d try for as long as it took for whoever he’s eating to either fake it or push his sodden face aside and finish themselves off. It’s the same reason he loves it when Xander still fills him up even when he’s sworn he’s too drunk to come. Or when Jeff fucks his throat and comes across his face after the fifth round of the day that Harry had to plead for. 

Adam can’t help but laugh, scrubbing his flattened fingers from side to side quickly across Emi’s swelling clit. She’s groaning low in her throat and Harry can’t remember when she started but she’s only getting louder, her whole body bucking upwards to meet Adam’s hand and ride it desperately. 

“It’s not hard to bend over and let someone use you to come,” Adam quips, ignoring the panting below him and fixing Harry with a challenging look before continuing. “You’re just like a warm fleshlight.”

“I don’t just have to bend over. And it’s not just my arse,” Harry mumbles, silently begging Adam to keep going. “My mouth too...” His pout is almost audible in his voice. He’s only got two holes to get fucked, but he’s not going to let Adam sell them short. 

“With you, it’s the same thing. The only way you can please people is to let them use you.” Emi whines and Harry can’t take his eyes off the way her pussy is darkening, the skin flushing along with her chest as Adam rubs her faster. “But that’s what you want, isn’t it? To be a wet hole for us to share. That’s  _ all  _ you want. To be a deep, warm,  _ hole _ .” 

Harry has to steady himself, his trousers achingly tight and he can’t believe how much he wants that. How much he enjoys the thought of that. To be wet and ready,  _ all  _ the time. To be like Emi. To be touched like this. He bites down on the inside of his cheek to suppress a groan. 

“Get on the bed.” Adam orders. “She’s nearly there.” 

Harry scurries over, lifting off his shirt and tossing it next to Emi’s shorts, his sweat-damp skin now cold in the air-conditioned room. He rests on the bed directly between her open legs. 

“See how she’s already wet?” Adam asks, pressing one finger all the way inside her before drawing it out to show Harry. In the room’s low lamplight, Adam’s finger is shiny, slick and almost creamy pearlescent. 

Harry nods, pressure blooming across his cheeks where he’s clenching his jaw.

“But that’s just inside, and you want her wet everywhere.” To demonstrate his point, he presses the finger back inside her, this time joined with a second. Emi throws her head back against Adam’s shoulder, her nipples sharp beneath her vest and her hands grasping her knees where they’re spread open. Her inner thigh muscles clench visibly in waves as she instinctively tries to close her legs against the intrusion, her head and shoulders whipping forward again as she attempts to curl in on herself at the sudden swooping in her cunt. 

Adam pumps his fingers into her until the sound of Emi’s wetness fills the room and Harry can see it dripping down from her pussy to the crevice of her arse, any wet patch hidden by the plush duvet beneath them. 

“Can you see everything you _need_ to see?” Adam asks slowly.

Harry nods again, so engrossed in what he’s  _ allowed  _ to watch, what they’re  _ giving  _ him, that he barely makes out the sound of Adam’s voice. 

When Adam pulls out his fingers noisily, Harry clearly sees the thick strings of wetness they leave in their wake. He shifts closer, the sharp smell of her arousal pungent between them.

“Your fingers are thinner. When you’re doing it… you might need to use three.” 

Adam rubs the moisture from his fingers across Emi’s pussy, massaging her folds and holding them stretched open and blindingly pink for just a second before dipping back in to gather more of her thick wetness and repeating the process. As Harry watches she begins to shudder in Adam’s arms and he withdraws his hand.

Harry doesn’t immediately realise that Adam’s stretching his wet fingers out to him until Emi takes a deep giggling breath and flicks the side of Harry’s head irritatedly. 

“Spit,” Adam instructs, nodding at his own hand in front of Harry’s face.

Harry clumsily blurts out whatever spit he’s holding in his mouth straight into Adam’s waiting hand, staring slack-jawed as Adam holds his fingers in the air just above the swollen mound of Emi’s clit and lets the liquid drip onto her in thick globs. 

“Feel how she’s hard?” Adam says, and Harry draws his hand from where it’s almost numb from being trapped beneath his stomach. He reaches out more surely than he can control, eager and heavy-handed. Harry rests two fingers where Emi’s hardest, flushing internally as her entire body jolts in sensitivity. There’s  _ nothing  _ that makes him do that.

“If you make sure she’s properly turned on, she’ll get hard enough for you to feel exactly where you need to be. Her clit’s big, too, which makes it easier,.” Harry presses down gently. Adam’s right. Harry can see where the skin of her pussy has drawn back, exposing the wet pink bulge of her clit. He presses his fingers down again. 

“ _ Harry _ ,” Emi gasps from beneath him, squirming under his touch where she’s unable to escape it, his fingers raw against her. 

Harry stills his hand, but Adam shakes his head. “No, carry on,” he urges, ignoring the strained look of excited panic across Emi’s face. 

“It might not work for _ everyone _ , but she likes one finger either side,” Adam’s voice is steady but his brow’s furrowed and his knuckles are white where they’re holding Emi’s legs open. “Press down. Okay?” 

“Inside?” Harry asks from his memories of others. 

“No,” Emi breathes dreamily, shaking her head.

“Not yet,” Adam adds. “Not until she’s about to come.”

Harry steadies the heel of his palm against the searing opening of Emi’s cunt and reapplies his two fingers to the firm ridge of her clit. His skin’s dry but hers is soaked and the contrast gives him enough friction to fix his fingertips. 

“There?” Harry’s voice doesn’t sound like his own. Beneath his fingers the softness of plush flesh beside the hardness of her arousal is familiar . 

“Press more. Harder.” Emi demands. Adam’s hands are up her top, his fingers locked around her nipples as she strains her back to push her tits into his grasp. Her face is serene but angry, excited but focused. Harry wants to feel  _ something _ against his own skin and grinds down into the bed with his chest and crotch. He catches Adam’s eye as he bites the soft skin of Emi’s earlobe, sucking it firmly into his mouth. “Press harder than you think,” he says. 

Harry knows he’s got it before Emi has the chance to shout, “There! Yes- Yeah, fuck. There,” her voice quivers. 

“Now move in circles.” Adam says,  _ finally  _ pulling Emi’s vest top over her head and taking her tits fully into his palms and squeezing. “Small and tight. And don’t fucking stop pressing like that.” 

Harry focuses on the frothing pink wetness of Emi’s open pussy in front of him, his forearm almost instantly cramping at the angle. But he focuses on, spurred on by a need to  _ get  _ this. Within seconds, Emi’s shout of pleasure numbs all feelings of discomfort. 

“Fuck! Other way,” she gasps. 

Adam instantly reaches out to grasp Harry’s wrist and directs both it and Harry’s fingers clockwise into his wife. 

“Yes. Yeah. There. Oh Jesus, fuck.” The deep stirring groan from Emi and the clenching of her soft stomach registers with Adam. 

“Now don’t stop,” he urges. “You have to just keep going if you want her to come. Don’t slow down.”

“Yeah, okay. Yeah,” Harry hurries. 

“Don’t stop. Don’t. Please don’t stop.” Emi begs, her face turned into the side of Adam’s neck, her line of her throat taut and white. Her hands are balling in and out of fists, her fingernails leaving stark white marks in the pink flesh of her palms.

“If you hurry up Harry you can come with her,” Adam says, massaging the puffy skin of her nipples with his huge hands. The soft pinky-brown of her areolas is visible as he pulls on them, dragging them away from her body in a way that looks painful but has Harry bucking against the bed unashamedly. “Yeah. God. Fuck the bed while you rub her pussy. Are you ready for fingers, baby?” He asks her. 

“Mmm..” she nods, opening her pelvis wider to force her cunt against Harry’s hand. 

“Two,” Adam clarifies for Harry. “Fuck her with them. Hard. As hard as you’d want to be fucked. Don’t stop until she’s finished.”

Emi squeals between them. “Now. Please fuck, now. Fuck I’m coming. Adam. Now. Harry.  _ Please _ .” 

Before she’s finished pleading, Harry moves one hand out of the way, still furiously rubbing her clit with his now-drenched fingers, and fits two from his other hand straight into her. She opens up with barely any resistance. Harry’s momentarily  _ so  _ tempted to just let himself feel the velvet wetness wrapped around his fingers but something about Adam’s warning glare reminds him to piston them into her from the off. 

As she comes she clenches almost painfully around his fingers. Harry feels it in waves as she wails above him. The way she whimpers and her thighs shudder and she’s  _ loud _ in every way. Her pussy is soaked and it  _ sounds  _ like it, snapping and sucking as he drives his fingers into her and fucks the orgasm out of her. She’s panting and it’s half breath and half yelp, and Harry’s hand is wetter than it’s ever felt inside a pussy before and he wants to drown in it. To breathe her in and drink her down and feel every drop surge from inside him as  _ he  _ comes like this, shaking and  _ far  _ too sensitive and restrained and held and loved and cored-open and bare. 

Harry barely notices it when he comes, sticky and far too hot inside his boxers. He feels Adam’s hand in his hair, feels the loop of Emi’s fingers around his wrist pulling his hand away from her, feels his head pulled forwards until he’s pressed into the hot throb of her cunt and he’s sucking her dry, rougher than he ought to be and deaf to the room, pressing  _ thank you _ into the raw skin in front of him. 


End file.
